Cinema Cess Pool Selection:
NA
The Banal, The Blah, The Banausic:
1. The Climax (1944) Dir. George Waggner – US
2. Tokyo Gore Police (2008) Dir. Yoshihiro Nishimura – Japan
3. Special (2006) Dir. Hal Haberman & Jeremy Passmore – US
Astounding Cinema:
4. Sullivan’s Travels (1941) Dir. Preston Sturges – US
3. White Zombie (1932) Dir. Victor Halperin – US
2. The Big Knife (1955) Dir. Robert Aldrich – US
1. Harold & Maude (1971) Dir. Hal Ashby – US
Rewatched:
1. From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) Dir. Robert Rodriguez – US
Theatrical Releases
3. Bruno (2009) Dir. Larry Charles – US 9/10
2. Cheri (2009) Dir. Stephen Frears – UK 9/10
1. Jerichow (2008) Dir. Christian Petzold – Germany 9/10
Sadly, I have no miserable pieces of shit cinema to bitch about this week. However, all three of my mediocre selections happened to have some redeeming qualities. This week's worst of the bunch, the 1944 "horror thriller" The Climax is one of those ironically named films because it doesn't ever reach its eponymous promise. Starring Boris Karloff as a doctor obsessed with a famous opera singer, he kills his love as she doesn't want to be a housewife. Skip ahead ten years, and a young ingenue discovered by the dead opera singer's agent sounds nearly exactly like the dead singer. Karloff, not only a physician but also an avid opera attendee, it seems, hears her practicing and hatches a plot to kill her so as to silence her similar voice. As you can see, The Climax is a bit anticlimactic, relying on WAY TOO MANY dubbed opera scenes to flesh out the film that lacks in plot. Karloff, always game to play bad nasties, is good, but he's given too little screen time to really care about him. Gale Sondergaard is also given a thankless role, though her presence does perk interest during an extremely lacking second half. The main problem is the nondescript heroine, played by the dull and uncharismatic Susannah Foster. Though beautifully shot in technicolor, it's no surprise that the film's director was reduced to directing television.
Another gory (a euphemism believe me) wacky J-horror/thriller with some strong imagery that failed to spark my interest was Tokyo Gore Police (2008). Director Yoshihiro Nishiumura's first film to cross overseas (he's well known as a make up artist) has quickly established himself as part of a new generation of genre filmmakers from Japan with this strange little number and his latest film, Vampire Girl Vs. Frankenstein Girl (2009). Some strong images in the film, such as a living body turned into a breathing chair that pees all over a strange party, along with various appendages being chewed or ripped off, and a woman with forearms or legs hobbling around using knives as a quadruped are just a few, however, the plot failed to catch me. Supposedly this film is a social commentary, and though it does focus on the privatization of police and our heroine Ruka, who is trying to avenge her father's assassination, the plot develops into such a kittywampus mess that I could care less about Ruka, her mission, or the privatization of the police. It looks nice (and bloody disgusting) but it needed more cohesion. It reminded me off one of Takashi Miike's misfires.
And sadly, Special (2006) failed to make my best of list by a nose. Michael Rapaport stars as a lonely meter maid who enrolls as a test patient for an experimental new anti-depressant, one that's supposed to make you feel special. However, Rapaport believes he has developed super powers due to the medication and begins to compromise the drug makers. What is really an ingenious idea for a film is hampered by small budget. The creators of the drug, two seedy businessman brothers, go after the simple minded Rapaport in order to get him off their drug, which eventually nearly ends up in murder. It is here where the film is its most unbelievable---many more people would be involved in a test case scenario concerning a new anti-depressant. Rapaport, on the other hand, is wonderful as the lonely and confused Les, who just wants to feel needed and special (especially from an actor who specializes in playing simpletons, both good and bad). The film lacks credibility, but it's definitely worth some attention, and I would look forward to more from directors Hal Haberman & Jeremy Passmore.
As for this week's top picks, at the number four slot is a film I had thought I would like a lot more than I really did, Preston Sturges' Sullivan's Travels (1941). The quintessential film about the making of a film (and also where the Coen Bros. got their title for O Brother Where Art Thou?, 2000) the film stars an enigmatic Joel McCrea and the always lovely Veronica Lake. McCrea stars as film director John Sullivan who goes on the road as a hobo to learn what it is to suffer in order to direct his next film, an adaption of a novel called O Brother Where Art Thou. On the way he runs into Veronica Lake, a woman on her way out of Hollywood after attempting to make her way in the movie industry. Our two leads fall in love and then McCrea is accidentally imprisoned for the deserved beating of a nasty railroad worker. The moral of the story is McCrea doesn't want to make a story about suffering--he'd rather make the world laugh. Well that's nice. Preston Sturges, a man whose work I generally love, has directed a well meaning and well made film with Sullivan's Travels---however, I think that its reputation precedes it.
Bela Lugosi, typecast after Dracula (1931) starred as an equally evil man in 1932's White Zombie, the best known film from director Victor Halperin (who also directed Supernatural, 1933, with Carole Lombard). Set in 1930's Haiti (which had yet to be liberated from US occupation, though this is conveniently ignored in the film) was filmed in 11 days on used sets from Dracula and Frankenstein and tells the story of a man that turns to a witch doctor, (Lugosi) to capture the love of a woman and lure her away from her fiance. However, the witch doctor turns her into a zombie slave, much like he has to all the Haitians he has running his mill. Though short of anything new or shocking, the film is full of atmosphere, with its foggy locations and gothic mansion, the film is a quick little genre jaunt and well worth the watch.
For a review of The Big Knife (1955) please click here to read this week's Past Cinema Regression.
And the number one film this week is Hal Ashby's 1971 cult classic, Harold & Maude, which it is embarrassing to admit that I have only seen just this week. I loved it, and mostly for the excellent Ruth Gordon, but also for a lovely but awkward Bud Cort and mood setting soundtrack by Cat Stevens. A fascinating ode to love, the film, as you may be aware is about a depressed young man, Harold, who develops a relationship with Maude, a soon-to-be octogenarian. The two meet while attending random funerals and develop an interesting dynamic, kind of becoming lovers, but what's really going on is Maude showing Harold how to fall in love with life. He's barely begun his and she's at the end of hers. Listening to Devotchka's amazing "How It Ends" as I write this, I'm getting all emotional thinking about Harold & Maude, a film that will certainly leave an impression on you. Definitely my favorite Hal Ashby film, the great American director, neglected and unrecognized to this day, but responsible for The Last Detail (1973), Shampoo (1975), Coming Home (1978) and Being There (1979). That said, please visit this link, which details a recent A.M.P.A.S to Harold & Maude---a film that I urge any of you that haven't seen it to please go out and do so. If I had to make a short list of films whose titles I could shout off the rooftops to get people to see them, Harold & Maude would be among those titles.
NA
The Banal, The Blah, The Banausic:
1. The Climax (1944) Dir. George Waggner – US
2. Tokyo Gore Police (2008) Dir. Yoshihiro Nishimura – Japan
3. Special (2006) Dir. Hal Haberman & Jeremy Passmore – US
Astounding Cinema:
4. Sullivan’s Travels (1941) Dir. Preston Sturges – US
3. White Zombie (1932) Dir. Victor Halperin – US
2. The Big Knife (1955) Dir. Robert Aldrich – US
1. Harold & Maude (1971) Dir. Hal Ashby – US
Rewatched:
1. From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) Dir. Robert Rodriguez – US
Theatrical Releases
3. Bruno (2009) Dir. Larry Charles – US 9/10
2. Cheri (2009) Dir. Stephen Frears – UK 9/10
1. Jerichow (2008) Dir. Christian Petzold – Germany 9/10
Sadly, I have no miserable pieces of shit cinema to bitch about this week. However, all three of my mediocre selections happened to have some redeeming qualities. This week's worst of the bunch, the 1944 "horror thriller" The Climax is one of those ironically named films because it doesn't ever reach its eponymous promise. Starring Boris Karloff as a doctor obsessed with a famous opera singer, he kills his love as she doesn't want to be a housewife. Skip ahead ten years, and a young ingenue discovered by the dead opera singer's agent sounds nearly exactly like the dead singer. Karloff, not only a physician but also an avid opera attendee, it seems, hears her practicing and hatches a plot to kill her so as to silence her similar voice. As you can see, The Climax is a bit anticlimactic, relying on WAY TOO MANY dubbed opera scenes to flesh out the film that lacks in plot. Karloff, always game to play bad nasties, is good, but he's given too little screen time to really care about him. Gale Sondergaard is also given a thankless role, though her presence does perk interest during an extremely lacking second half. The main problem is the nondescript heroine, played by the dull and uncharismatic Susannah Foster. Though beautifully shot in technicolor, it's no surprise that the film's director was reduced to directing television.
Another gory (a euphemism believe me) wacky J-horror/thriller with some strong imagery that failed to spark my interest was Tokyo Gore Police (2008). Director Yoshihiro Nishiumura's first film to cross overseas (he's well known as a make up artist) has quickly established himself as part of a new generation of genre filmmakers from Japan with this strange little number and his latest film, Vampire Girl Vs. Frankenstein Girl (2009). Some strong images in the film, such as a living body turned into a breathing chair that pees all over a strange party, along with various appendages being chewed or ripped off, and a woman with forearms or legs hobbling around using knives as a quadruped are just a few, however, the plot failed to catch me. Supposedly this film is a social commentary, and though it does focus on the privatization of police and our heroine Ruka, who is trying to avenge her father's assassination, the plot develops into such a kittywampus mess that I could care less about Ruka, her mission, or the privatization of the police. It looks nice (and bloody disgusting) but it needed more cohesion. It reminded me off one of Takashi Miike's misfires.
And sadly, Special (2006) failed to make my best of list by a nose. Michael Rapaport stars as a lonely meter maid who enrolls as a test patient for an experimental new anti-depressant, one that's supposed to make you feel special. However, Rapaport believes he has developed super powers due to the medication and begins to compromise the drug makers. What is really an ingenious idea for a film is hampered by small budget. The creators of the drug, two seedy businessman brothers, go after the simple minded Rapaport in order to get him off their drug, which eventually nearly ends up in murder. It is here where the film is its most unbelievable---many more people would be involved in a test case scenario concerning a new anti-depressant. Rapaport, on the other hand, is wonderful as the lonely and confused Les, who just wants to feel needed and special (especially from an actor who specializes in playing simpletons, both good and bad). The film lacks credibility, but it's definitely worth some attention, and I would look forward to more from directors Hal Haberman & Jeremy Passmore.
As for this week's top picks, at the number four slot is a film I had thought I would like a lot more than I really did, Preston Sturges' Sullivan's Travels (1941). The quintessential film about the making of a film (and also where the Coen Bros. got their title for O Brother Where Art Thou?, 2000) the film stars an enigmatic Joel McCrea and the always lovely Veronica Lake. McCrea stars as film director John Sullivan who goes on the road as a hobo to learn what it is to suffer in order to direct his next film, an adaption of a novel called O Brother Where Art Thou. On the way he runs into Veronica Lake, a woman on her way out of Hollywood after attempting to make her way in the movie industry. Our two leads fall in love and then McCrea is accidentally imprisoned for the deserved beating of a nasty railroad worker. The moral of the story is McCrea doesn't want to make a story about suffering--he'd rather make the world laugh. Well that's nice. Preston Sturges, a man whose work I generally love, has directed a well meaning and well made film with Sullivan's Travels---however, I think that its reputation precedes it.
Bela Lugosi, typecast after Dracula (1931) starred as an equally evil man in 1932's White Zombie, the best known film from director Victor Halperin (who also directed Supernatural, 1933, with Carole Lombard). Set in 1930's Haiti (which had yet to be liberated from US occupation, though this is conveniently ignored in the film) was filmed in 11 days on used sets from Dracula and Frankenstein and tells the story of a man that turns to a witch doctor, (Lugosi) to capture the love of a woman and lure her away from her fiance. However, the witch doctor turns her into a zombie slave, much like he has to all the Haitians he has running his mill. Though short of anything new or shocking, the film is full of atmosphere, with its foggy locations and gothic mansion, the film is a quick little genre jaunt and well worth the watch.
For a review of The Big Knife (1955) please click here to read this week's Past Cinema Regression.
And the number one film this week is Hal Ashby's 1971 cult classic, Harold & Maude, which it is embarrassing to admit that I have only seen just this week. I loved it, and mostly for the excellent Ruth Gordon, but also for a lovely but awkward Bud Cort and mood setting soundtrack by Cat Stevens. A fascinating ode to love, the film, as you may be aware is about a depressed young man, Harold, who develops a relationship with Maude, a soon-to-be octogenarian. The two meet while attending random funerals and develop an interesting dynamic, kind of becoming lovers, but what's really going on is Maude showing Harold how to fall in love with life. He's barely begun his and she's at the end of hers. Listening to Devotchka's amazing "How It Ends" as I write this, I'm getting all emotional thinking about Harold & Maude, a film that will certainly leave an impression on you. Definitely my favorite Hal Ashby film, the great American director, neglected and unrecognized to this day, but responsible for The Last Detail (1973), Shampoo (1975), Coming Home (1978) and Being There (1979). That said, please visit this link, which details a recent A.M.P.A.S to Harold & Maude---a film that I urge any of you that haven't seen it to please go out and do so. If I had to make a short list of films whose titles I could shout off the rooftops to get people to see them, Harold & Maude would be among those titles.
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